Revel Me a Revelation
by DarkShine07
Summary: He was aware of how tentatively she was watching him as he spoke, as if waiting for some new dagger hidden in a guise of words to be flung at her heart. He rose, emotion filling him. There was no turning back now.  FenrisxHawke   Oneshot


**A/N: Just beat Dragon Age II and I had to write a Fenris fic. Warning: There is verrry slight mature content at the end, but not enough for me to think this demands an M rating. **

~•~

Hightown was bustling with activity, merchants waving their arms and shouting at passersby to stop and take a look at miscellaneous wares on display. Occasionally, people would pause in their wake and glance downward at the items for sale. Most of them gave a halfhearted smile, looked up, shook their head, and continued on, uninterested in the dangers that came with possessing swords and battle-axes. In other areas of Hightown, nobles and humans with high standing in Kirkwall gathered to talk in corners, or simply strolled about the protected streets that came with living in the respected part of the city. None of them even gave a second thought as to how fortunate they were to be walking down the street without worrying that they could be jumped the next minute. Things were different in Lowtown and Darktown. They probably always would be.

Fenris stood perched against a darkened corner in the market district of Hightown, quietly watching the happenings with an uninterested stare. He was out of place there, as an elf. Elves belonged in the Alienage. Somehow, that rule never seemed to apply to Fenris though, as he had taken up residence in Danarius's former mansion in Hightown and no one had ever complained. Even if he moved to the Alienage, though, Fenris was sure he'd still feel out of place. He'd never felt like he belonged anywhere, which he credited to his loss of memory and the fact that nobody else quite new what it was like to have been a slave, revolted, and escaped eventually.

He'd done everything in his power to obtain happiness after he'd gained his freedom. He'd hired Anso to find somebody with competent skill to aid him in raiding Danarius's mansion in hopes that the magister would be trapped inside. That hadn't worked at all; the rival of his past had been long gone. Three years later, he'd found Hadriana, the magister's apprentice of whom he tried not to think about, and had killed her. But not before she told him he had a sister. He still remembered hearing those fateful words, how his heart clenched up at the thought of discovering his past. He had tried to push the longing to find her aside, but alas, another three years later, he had found her. Varania had betrayed him as well, though. She'd brought Danarius straight to him. It saved him the looking and chasing, but after his blade had been plunged through Danarius's chest, the satisfaction and feeling of completeness that Fenris had been counting on just wasn't there. And his sister – she had to die as well. She obviously wasn't going to bring him any content. She'd long stopped thinking of him as her brother.

Fenris sighed and laid his head back against the cool, shaded wall. He'd found out more than he ever thought possible, and he had always thought that alone would make him feel at least slightly better about himself. He had his revenge. He was free now. Slavers would stop looking for him, and he could actually go on with his life. That was the problem, though. Having spent all his time thinking about the past, seeking revenge, and finally eliminating his enemy, he realized he'd never put time into wondering about his future. What would he do now? Without warning, her image flittered into focus in his mind, and he pushed it away. He'd really messed it up with Hawke. There was no way she would ever forgive him. He wouldn't forgive him. He had just been looking for happiness once again…but what came of it, he couldn't bear.

The night he had gone to see Hawke was etched upon his mind. He had liked her, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Why shouldn't he see what would happen? Perhaps, he hadn't been prepared for her to feel so strongly about him as well. The embrace led to a kiss, which led to a desire he'd never known before, which led to – no. Stop thinking about it, he ordered himself. Her touch shaded his every waking moment, and haunted his dreams. It had been the most blissful he'd ever felt in his life. Until the memories bombarded him. The pain of the tattoo, laughing with his sister, Danarius's face inches away from his, Hadriana's cold smirk that sank beneath his skin and gripped his heart in terror. He'd almost remembered it all, almost remembered what it was like to be Leto, as Varania had called him when he'd found her. He remembered wanting so badly to find a way to free his sister and mother. The lyrium brands had been the answer. And then, just as the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together, they all floated away. That was what did him in. He couldn't understand how he could be so close one moment, and the next feel farther away than ever from who he was. He'd had no choice – he left Hawke alone that night, convinced that if he stayed with her, he'd never escape those haunting memories. It was like the one person who might bring him happiness was also the one thing that would never let him move away from his past. There were no words to explain that to her. What he did, walking out without even attempting to explain his reasoning, must have been like an icy slap in the face to her.

That had been three years ago, not long after he'd slain Hadriana. He knew more now, was more at peace with his past. Only earlier that day he had come face to face with Danarius and his sister. Hawke had helped him throughout his entire quest of tying up the loose ends of his past, and now both of the people who had tormented him to no end were dead and gone from the world. His sister was a traitor to him, but gone as well. He knew what he'd done, why he'd felt like he had to get the lyrium branded into his flesh. His more complete understanding of his past somewhat led him to think he might have a better chance with Hawke. However, he didn't dare to hope she'd forgive him. He hadn't said anything to her other than formal talk of strategy and planning during quests for the past three years. The red ribbon that dangled from his wrist was the only sign that anything had ever occurred between the two of them. After killing his sister, he had muttered quietly to himself.

"I am alone now."

It had surprised him, what Hawke said after that. "You have me."

It was dark now, the streets deserted and the shops closed. He'd been alone for the entire afternoon, isolated with his contemplations in the corner. He headed home, or to what he had called home for six years now.

~•~

"But you're staying…you could go anywhere now."

"Perhaps…I don't wish to go anywhere."

"Freedom must be a terrible burden, I guess…" Varric muttered.

Aveline and Varric left him. Fenris knew they were worried about him, staying pent up in Danarius's old mansion for so long. He hadn't ever bothered to fix up the place, but he didn't the point. He leaned back in his chair and grasped the wine battle, took a sip. Danarius's cellars were going to emptied because of him. Not that the dead magister would mind in his current condition. The floorboards creaked, and Fenris looked up. He felt a twinge.

"They don't understand…" He said to Hawke.

She sat down in the chair set opposite of his, and he took it as a sign to continue.

"Yes, I am free. Danarius is dead. Yet, it doesn't feel like it should." It was what he'd been pondering all afternoon as he'd watched idle business take place. He looked up, wondering what she would say.

"You thought killing him would solve everything, but it doesn't." Her voice wasn't harsh in the slightest, not like he'd expect it to be after all he'd put her through.

"I suppose not. I just thought…" He glanced away.

Hawke tilted her head. "I'm listening."

"I thought if I didn't need to run and fight to stay alive, I'd finally be able to live as a free man does. But how is that?" Again he paused, not sure if this was going to get him anywhere. But Hawke's gaze was locked on him, attentive and waiting. "My sister is gone, and I have nothing…not even an enemy."

Hawke glanced down for the first time, her blonde bangs falling like silk over her eye. A moment later she looked back up, the faintest trace of a smile hiding in her expression. Fenris eyed her, wondering what she would say. She'd proven at the Hanged Man that she would never cease to surprise him.

"Maybe, that just means there's nothing to hold you back now. There's nothing in your past that you haven't confronted. Now, you can look to the future and decide what you want in life. You're free to choose."

"But, it's just difficult to overlook the stain that magic has had on my life. I know I seem bitter, but it's not without cause." He paused, letting his words sink in as much for himself as her. He'd been bitter his whole life, he realized. Or least as far back as he could remember. There were only brief encounters in which he'd felt pleasant, more content. And those moments had been with… "Perhaps, it is time to move forward."

Hawke nodded once in agreement.

"I just don't know where that leads." He finished.

He gazed at her, waiting. What would she say now? It was true, what he'd stated. It was what he'd found himself stuck with in the market district. The same conclusion. It was time to move on, now that all his dealings with the past were done with and his was finally free in every sense of the word, not just another runaway always on the lookout for slavers. He could actually go out into the world and not have to think about being recaptured and sent back. That possibility was gone from his world. He wasn't expecting much from Hawke. He'd been reminding himself that he'd hurt her, that she was only acting as nicely as she did toward him out of a sense of honor, a trait she'd always had. Something he admired about her. He hadn't once seen her go back on her word, or a friend. If she considered him even a friend still, he counted himself lucky.

"Wherever it means…" Her eyes momentarily flickered downward, like she was nervous. "I hope it means we'll stay together."

Shock. Pleasant, shock. "That…is my hope as well." He managed, not able to hide a smile at the warmth spreading throughout his chest.

Before he lost the courage to do so, he plunged in. "We've never discussed…what happened between us three years ago."

Now he saw a small hint of a frown haunt her usually cheerful visage. So, it was still a painfully tangible memory to her as well. Her eyes seemed to somehow become less bright, and he despised himself for his actions being the cause of it.

"You…didn't want to talk about it." She stated softly.

"I felt a fool. I thought it better if you hated me – I deserve no less." He was aware of how tentatively she was watching him as he spoke, as if waiting for some new dagger hidden in a guise of words to be flung at her heart. He rose, emotion filling him to the point that sitting made him feel nervous. There was no turning back now. Even if she told him to stop and turned and walked away, trying to tell her how he felt was better than the silence he'd put both of them through. He knew that now, with hindsight and experience telling him that he'd made the wrong decision in not bringing this up before now. He'd waited more than long enough.

"But…it isn't better. That night, I remember your touch as if it were yesterday."

Hawke looked surprised, though she hid it very well. Every analyzing her reaction, he continued.

"I should have asked your forgiveness long ago, Lyra." He used her first name to emphasize how strongly he felt what he was saying. "I only hope you can forgive me now."

The surprise was more evident on her face now; clearly she hadn't been expecting him to go into this topic since he hadn't done so for three years. He couldn't blame her for giving up on him ever apologizing by now, if she had. It had a been a long time, but it was as he said – he still remembered it clear as crystal.

Hawke sighed. "I need to know why you left, Fenris."

"I've thought about the answer a thousand times. The pain, the memories it brought up…it was too much." He looked away. "I was a coward." He closed his eyes, reliving the moment.

Hawke had been in bed still, but he'd stolen away and was fully dressed again, hovering in front of the fireplace, futilely trying to grasp at the memories as they drifted further and further away from the stark clarity he'd had only minutes before. She asked him if was his brands, making him hurt. He'd tried dumbly to say it was the memories, but he couldn't see how to word it to make sense to anyone when it hardly made sense to himself. He'd left, and she'd called after him, but he was shutting down and refused to listen.

Now, was his chance, a second one that he didn't deserve. Hawke was giving it to him though, and why he didn't understand.

"If I could go back in time, I would stay." He stated. "…And tell you how I felt."

He looked back to her. She was looking piqued, almost hopeful. Was that hope? No, it couldn't be. What would she even be hoping for?

"What…would you have said?" She voiced, her eyes twinkling like they were moist. Andraste, was she getting teary-eyed? He'd really messed this up - a second time. He would never know how to do anything right with her. He just couldn't think straight in her presence.

"Nothing, _nothing_, could be worse than living without you." He managed, waiting to be struck down.

But, wait…now she was smiling? A tear was making its way down her cheek and yet she smiled. He leaned down, concerned.

"I understand." She said, her voice tender with emotion. "I've always understood."

It didn't make sense, but it seemed like she had just forgiven him. Joy spread through his heart, and he didn't quite know what to do about it. She'd just made his life, and it felt like nothing would ever ruin things for him again.

Smiling in return, he stated heartily, "If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly at your side."

That was all it took, he realized. She rose in a flurry to his level and in a split second she was melting into his arms for the second time in his life. It was so much more than he deserved, but at the same time he reveled in it. Her hands held him tightly around the waist, and her hair felt smooth and fine in his hand. He held her like he was afraid he'd never be able to feel her again if he let go, which he somewhat was. It felt like a dream; it was certainly more than he'd hoped she'd give. Her forgiveness, and now it seemed she still wanted him in her life as more than just a traveling companion. Perhaps, all his troubles, the slavery, the lyrium, all of it, was simply his destiny that led him to her. Kissing her, holding her, it made any concern he had drift away. He just knew in his heart that things would work out if he allowed her to make him happy.

For a brief second, he pulled away. She looked at him, her eyes big and full as they absorbed him. He stroked her cheek tenderly, realizing she was his home. She smiled at him, and pulled his head back to hers.

Clothes were shed and before long, Fenris found himself enwrapped in her arms in his bed. Her hands traced the tattoos along his arms, and then the one that began at his chin and raced down his neck to his chest. Amazingly enough, they didn't hurt. It was like a sign to him, telling him that this was right. It always would be right. Her hands moved to his back as if to hug him closer, and then he was blissfully one with her. The rhythm of her breathing was a song he'd never get tired of hearing again, as he moved within her. Last time, the emotion had only been a fraction of how much he felt for her now. Now that he knew she wanted him for him, and not just as a brief flirtation. She threw her head back and her eyes closed. The hand she'd wrapped around his neck minutes before suddenly gripped him tighter, driving him on. Moments later, the same ecstasy overtook him, and then he collapsed.

Her breathing slowed after some time, and so did his. The cool air of night seemed to drift in from outside the windows, and chill his skin where sweat had beaded. It was a pleasing weariness that was upon him now. He lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them as he shifted slightly. Her hands, one still on his neck, moved to his back and rested. He wrapped on arm down under her neck and smiled. She looked serene and content, like she felt something of the same satisfaction as he did, and it made him exultant. Laconically, he brushed her cheek with one finger idly, just enjoying her nearness. Suddenly, he just knew with certainty he'd never felt before. He took a breath and gazed intently into her eyes.

"Lyra, there's something I must tell you."

She titled her head, nodded, and waited tranquilly.

"I love you."

He was granted a smile, which told him she felt the same, and relief combined with elation rushed through him anew.

"No, Fenris. _I _love _you._"

He found himself grinning stupidly, something he decided only she could make him do, and then she was kissing him again, and time slowed giddily down for the rest of the night. The future suddenly wasn't so daunting. As long as he had her with him, Fenris could face anything.


End file.
